


A Not So Welcome Guest

by morganaDW (morgana07)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Sam, Demon Dean Winchester, Language, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mild Kink, Mildly Dubious Consent, Minor Violence, Minor hurt Sam, Porn, Slash, Spoilers, Top Dean, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-11 03:49:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2052435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgana07/pseuds/morganaDW
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1-shot. Sam returns to the bunker to find an unexpected and maybe not-so welcome guest waiting for him. Except not everything is as it appears. *See note for more</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Not So Welcome Guest

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Language, explicit warning for explicit content. Also I’ll toss in a minor violence, dub-con for bits, a light D/s label and a trigger warning all just to be safe. 
> 
> Spoilers: As this is set after S9 finale and before S10 with some things picked up here and there from spoilers and such I’ll say yeah, it’ll have some spoilers even though it’s Wincest.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing but the muse who creates the plots.
> 
> Author Note: So originally the muse decided to do a semi-dark plot with some schmoop at the end. I blame an earache for the schmoopy bits and for the D/s feel as the muse decided to go another direction than I planned. I tried to warning for everything even if it might not have been needed. Demon!Dean really is fun to write but I still have to give the muse some sap…especially since there’s no one to rein in its love of schmoop right now and even Demon-Dean can have some moments. Enjoy!

**A Not-So Welcome Guest**

Sam Winchester was beat; emotionally and physically beat. It felt like he’d been beating his head against a brick wall for months in his attempts to find, locate and return his older brother to the bunker. Nothing he did had worked and as he dropped his duffel by the steps in the main hall he had to face the fact that he didn’t like the things that he’d been doing.

His shoulder had been hurt a lot worse than he first thought in a run-in with some demons who were pissed off at something Dean had done in his six-month spree of fun and mayhem. Sam was ignoring the pain and running on exhaustion; on a burning need to not give up on Dean. He would not give up on finding his brother. He’d die first.

All Sam wanted right then was to close his eyes for an hour and try to not think too hard about possibly losing Dean for good. He thought he could learn to adjust to having a demon for a brother…if it meant having Dean back with him instead of out there doing God knew what with God knew who.

Bypassing Dean’s room with only a long look at the closed door, Sam stepped into his own room to close the door; leaning against it with a tired ragged sigh. He pushed away to step to his bed while reaching to undo the straps of the sling he wore to immobilize his injured right arm when he felt the danger a second too late to avoid it or the razor shape blade that touched his throat as strong fingers grabbed a handful of hair.

“ _Sonuvabitch_!” he hissed, wincing as his head was jerked back to allow the blade to press deeper against the soft flesh at his throat.

“That’s my line,” a low deep voice that Sam knew he would know in his sleep even with the slight change in tone growled next to his ear. “What’s the matter, Sammy? No welcome home for your big brother?”

Sam tensed automatically, instinct telling him to fight while the blade at his throat had a more cautionary voice filling his head. “Maybe I would if you didn’t have a blade to my throat,” he replied tersely, gasping when he felt the blade dig in with just enough force to draw a thin line of blood along his neck. “Dean…”

“Busted shoulder bad enough that it has to be kept in a sling. You left the blade in your jacket which you carelessly left at the door and your trapped in a room with a door that’s locked and held shut until I decide to open it. Want to guess where this is going to go, little brother?” Dean Winchester asked through a smile that looked nothing like the man he’d once been, tightening his grip in long dark hair as he stepped up closer to pull Sam back until his back was against Dean’s chest. “Want to guess why I came back?”

The surge of fear at the feeling of Dean’s knife, a normal knife Sam knew by the touch of the blade, along with a jarring of his shoulder had him distracted for the time it took for that question to register. By the time it did Sam could feel his nerves stretching as a cold ball of fear began to settle in the pit of his stomach.

“I…I thought you were out partying with Crowley,” he shot back in reply, biting on his lip to keep the pain back as fingers with strength more than a human gave another tug to his hair before he was shoved forward suddenly.

Off balance from the shove, Sam had to react quickly to stop himself from landing on his bad shoulder on the bed. He was whirling to grab the hunter’s knife he kept under the pillow when a wave of power was felt that forced him against his dresser, hard enough to cause a sharp cry of pain.

“I was but he got to be a little too…whiney. He was bringing my fun down. So I figure if I wanted to have that then I could just hang out with you and at least get something out of it,” Dean smirked slowly. He moved to the bed to pull the blade and gun out with a soft tsking sound before both vanished with a flash of black eyes that he kept while stepping up behind where his new power had his brother pinned. “We both know you wouldn’t draw on me, Sammy.”

“Wanna bet?” Sam gritted, straining against the power that didn’t give an inch. “Give me my blade and let me go then we’ll see if I do or not.”

Black eyes met hazel ones in the mirror and held for several long questioning seconds before Sam’s blade was placed on the dresser near Sam’s frozen fingers. “Try it,” Dean offered smugly.

The power was gone allowing Sam to grab the demon killing blade, whirl to find when he moved it put him directly in front of his brother; the knife to Dean’s throat while those damn black eyes switched back to deep intense green to stare at him as if daring him. “Dean…”

“C’mon, do it,” Dean invited, reaching up to place his hand over Sam’s and proceeded to apply enough pressure to cut a thin line over his own throat. “Do it. After all…didn’t you tell me once that you hate demons? Regardless of what else I have flowing through these veins I guess you could still consider me one. So make Dad proud. Kill me!”

Sam flinched at the sharp snap of his brother’s voice, fingers tight on the handle but he found his strength pulling back on the blade instead of pressing it forward. “I…I…can’t!” he wasn’t sure if his voice broke from his inability to put Dean out of his misery or the horror at even the thought of hurting his brother. “I can’t!”

The blade fell from his fingers to drop to the floor with a clatter leaving Sam fighting too many inner emotions from fear, anger, confusion, to one he really didn’t want to be feeling right then.

“I knew you couldn’t,” Dean smirked, tone smug as he took a step forward to back Sam up against the dresser where he smiled at the flash of fear on Sam’s face. “Scared of me, little brother?”

“Shouldn’t I be?” Sam cringed as his shoulder was bumped but still struggled to not look away from the hard eyes that pinned him, watching to see the blade that his brother still held.

“Oh, without a doubt you definitely should be scared of me,” Dean moved to quickly grab a handful of hair again while the tip of the blade pressed against the corner of Sam’s eye. “You should be very, very scared of me because I’m not the big brother that puts you first anymore, kiddo. I’m not the same man who let guilt and responsibility eat him up inside. I’m free for the first time since I was four years old and got saddled with a boatload of crap that I never should’ve had put on me.”

Sam tried to stay still, to not move or flinch with the tip of the knife tracing dangerously close to his eye but that was made harder when his stomach suddenly soured and tightness spread into his chest from the lump in his throat. “You mean me,” he managed to get out tightly, refusing to let it hurt him.

He still needed to believe that even though this version of his brother was Dean right down to a twisted soul, that it was just his brother without the need to care about anything or anyone. That if he found a way to reverse the effects that Cain’s mark had on him that _his_ brother would be back.

The flash of hurt, of pain that crossed Sam’s face hadn’t fully escaped Dean. He’d caught it as well as the way Sam’s voice dropped lower, softer and frowned but stayed silent.

“So…cut me,” Sam invited, willing the jumping nerves to go away. “Is…that why you came back? To prove that you don’t give a crap about anyone? That you don’t care about me? If it is then do something. You got all the strength and power now. I’ve proved I’m not strong enough to take you out because _I_ still happen to look at you like my brother. I’ve got no weapons and a bum arm thanks to demons that were looking for you so whatever you came here to do, Dean…do it!”

Sam refused to look into those eyes any longer and had looked away, missing the slightest, barest twitch of a jaw muscle at the mention of how his arm had been injured. He was suddenly too tired to care what was about to happen.

“I didn’t come back to cut you or even kill you. Though I won’t say you won’t end up bruised or bleeding some,” Dean finally did speak, taking another half-step forward until their chests touched and hazel eyes snapped back up. “Six months, Sammy,” he jerked the handful of hair in warning when Sam tried to pull his head back, the blade sliding down his cheek slowly. “Six months of booze, hookers, strippers. Any kind of sex I wanted, I took. And do you know what I discovered in those six months, little brother?”

“Demons can still get STDs?” Sam knew the smart remarks would get him cut or killed faster than fighting back but he was too tired to care and just wanted to cut to the chase of this little cat and mouse game.

“No, but cute answer, smart ass,” Dean snorted, letting go of Sam’s hair to lightly slap the back of his head; much like his old self might…without the knife that was still moving slowly over his brother’s neck to finally touch his shirt. “I discovered that no matter who I had sex with I wasn’t satisfied. Oh, basically I was. I mean sex is sex but it wasn’t what I wanted and then…one night after fucking some stripper in Vegas it hit me why I wasn’t being satisfied with any of them.”

The blade flicked and the first button of Sam’s flannel came off. Then the next and the next until it finally began sinking in with the hunter what Dean was saying and he felt his breath catch in his throat. “No,” he whispered, tensing as if to fight when in a flash Sam was flung hard onto his bed; pinned by invisible hands while his brother’s smile was pure lust as his eyes raked over Sam’s body.

“I want you, Sam,” Dean didn’t let on if he saw the increasing panic on his brother’s face. He merely leaned over the straining hunter to finish cutting his shirts free, pulling the ruined material away from the black sling rather than remove it. “I realized that it’s you I see, that I feel, that I hear and I came back here to claim what is still mine.”

“Fuck you!” Sam snapped, knowing fighting was useless given the ease in which Dean controlled his new powers but he still tried. He tensed and tried to move his left hand to push the hands away that went to reach for his jeans. “You think I’ll let you touch me knowing you don’t give a fuck about me now? No! You already broke every damn promise you ever made me about being loyal if we went down that path! You’re bragging to me about having sex with hookers and think you can show back up here and think I’ll let you touch me?”

“Letting really isn’t gonna come into play here, Sam. I plan to take what I want whether you ‘let’ me or not. The amount of pain you bring on yourself though is up to you…unless you can prove to me that you don’t really still want me,” Dean held the blade of the knife to Sam’s throat, letting it be held there just by power alone while he casually undid the button and fly of the jeans before giving a tug to pull them down long legs.

Before Sam could even begin to comprehend fully he realized he was now naked except for the sling. He also realized that his body wasn’t in complete agreement with his head because he could feel a stirring in his belly that he’d been feeling for Dean since before he even really understood what it meant.

“Stay still,” Dean ordered sharply when he went to still struggle. “Holding the blade like this means it’s easier to slip and cut you…unless you want your throat slit rather than admit that this still holds some thrill for you.”

“You’re not…” Sam wanted to say that. He wanted to say that all the changes in Dean made him different, that they made him not his brother, not the man who Sam had broken every moral and ethical rule with. He wanted to say that but in his heart he knew he couldn’t…just like he knew he’d be lying if he said his body wasn’t physically interested in what Dean was suggesting. “Go to hell. I…”

“Been there, done that, little brother,” Dean returned as he knelt on the bed, letting his eyes flash black briefly because he enjoyed the look of fear that Sam tried to keep buried at it. “But then we’ve both been down that path. The part that I find really laughable is that _you_ were the one everyone expected to go Dark Side.”

“This…this isn’t you!” Sam spat, gasping as pain shot through his injured shoulder when a hand pressed down onto it.

“Now y’see that’s where you and even Crowley’s got it wrong. This is me. This is me without any cares. This is me doing what I want for a change instead of what was drilled into my head or what too much guilt caused me to do. This is me, little boy,” Dean left the blade where it was as he pulled Sam up to his knees, jerked him around to face the wall and pulled his good arm out to press it against the wall. “Leave it,” he ordered in a low whisper. “Remember all those games we played? Remember how you trusted me to know how far to go and you never needed a safe word? Well, this time you don’t get the option of a safe word and we’ll go as far as I say we will.”

Dean let the knife ease away for the time it took him to run his hand over Sam’s throat, hearing a soft whimper and guessed his brother felt the change. “Feel that, Sammy?” he asked, tone dropping lower as his lips moved over Sam’s jawline. “The great thing I love about these powers other than the obvious is the neat little things I can do that no one but another demon can see…like this collar.”

“No…” Sam felt the power as it touched his throat, feeling the pressure closing around his neck and knowing what it was. He’d felt it once before…in the Cage.

He and Dean had played a lot of games since they crossed that line that took them from just brothers but there had always been things that his brother had avoided doing. The main one of those was ever making Sam wear a collar to show Dean’s dominance.

Now as he felt the invisible pressure wrap around and swore he heard a soft ‘click’ Sam tried to jerk only to cry out in pain as the tip of the blade hovered over the center of his chest where he was forced to kneel on his bed; Dean’s body pressing up against him from behind.

“Did you know that there were clubs that demons went to? I didn’t until Crowley showed me one and I gotta tell you that none of the humans those demons had were anything like you, Sammy,” Dean’s lips sucked onto Sam’s shoulder, fingers free to roam over hard muscles. “I think once you get used to this little arrangement that I’ll take you to one just to see the looks on those demons faces when I lead you in wearing my collar.”

“Dean…” Sam tried to speak, wanted to beg whatever was inside his brother to stop this but lost his chance when something hard pressed against his lips. “Dean…don’t do…mmhm!”

“I know I could use the power to gag you but I always liked to see you with a gag in your mouth,” Dean pressed the ballgag in fully, hooking the straps tightly to clip the buckle at the back of Sam’s head. He gave a hard tug of long hair just to get a muffled moan out of his brother. “Hmm, love hearing you moan for me. No safety net, Sammy. No safe word, no way to hit the proverbial panic button. You’ll take what I give however I give it and for as long as I want to play.

“You can’t fight against me or this power and I’ve got a lot of ideas I want to try since I’m not working under the restraints of hurting you if we play too rough so…let’s play,” Dean pressed his lips to Sam’s face, whispering something in his ear that made Sam tense then nod slowly.

Sam knew he should fight but as he felt a low touch of power moving over his chest to tease his nipples while Dean’s hands roamed elsewhere he began to understand the scope of the power residing in his brother. He also understood that for him to find a way to fix Dean that he needed to be alive to do it so that meant not getting killed.

He was powerless to do anything but let Dean do what he planned. Sam waited for burning pain as he heard the sound of a zipper coming down and tried to keep his mind off of thoughts of Dean shedding his clothes while also missing the show that usually came with watching his brother undress.

Firm hands got his knees spread more on the bed, a light weight seemed to close over his thighs to tell the hunter that like the collar these clamps would also be invisible. More than anything else Sam hated to be restrained by things he couldn’t see. It reminded him too much of the games Lucifer had played in the Cage.

He had tensed without knowing it; only realizing he had when the tip of the knife applied a little pressure to the side of his jaw and Sam’s focus snapped back to the present to try to find out where Dean was when a slow tongue licked his jaw, over the line of blood that had welled up.

“You keep zoning out on me, kiddo. I’m beginning to think I’m not interesting enough to keep your attention,” Dean leaned over the injured shoulder to stare into Sam’s face as if looking for something and wasn’t sure if he’d found it or not when glassy hazel eyes stared back. “Maybe I should give you something else to focus on?”

Before Sam could try to give a muffled reply or jerk he felt those invisible fingers wrapping around his cock much like Dean’s own fingers once had and heard a soft whimper escape him.

He didn’t want to respond but had already given up on the idea of resisting because while he was trapped by Dean’s power, his body was still too attuned to Dean’s touch to know not to get hard or turned on by the feel of calloused fingers touching him or the feel of Dean’s chest pressing against his back a moment before two fingers, slick with spit or lube, were pushed into his ass without any warning and he made a sound of pain.

“Do I have your attention back?” Dean asked gruffly, easily splitting his attention three ways to keep the blade close to either Sam’s face or chest while he stroked and teased without touching over Sam’s slowly hardening cock. “Good, now keep it on me and maybe I’ll let you come sometime tonight.”

Dean had always used to tease him about not letting him come but it had never happened. This time, with how Dean was, Sam wasn’t sure this wouldn’t be the time that Dean followed through on that threat.

The fingers on the hand that was held in the sling across his chest clenched in building frustration. Sam had expected pain…a lot of pain if he were honest with himself. And there was a lot more pain than normal when they pulled out the stops to take their sex in a darker area but given what his brother was and some of the things he’d heard from Crowley, Sam thought he’d be bleeding more or screaming himself raw by this point.

It actually made him more nervous and on edge waiting for Dean to drop the other shoe and being nervous right then was not a good thing to be given that his brother was not patiently opening him like he had always been but thrusting two fingers up as far as rigid inner muscles would allow.

“Relax or this could hurt a lot more than it has,” Dean told him, raking his teeth over Sam’s shoulder before biting down just enough to break the skin and get a startled response. “Hmm, taste good, Sammy,” he licked over the mark, fingers beginning to scissor as he felt Sam’s body relax a little finally. “How’s that cock feeling? You’re getting hard even as I bet you’re cussing me out behind that gag for causing you to but you know and I know that if you really didn’t want this…you’d be cut up a lot more than you have been cause you’d still be fighting against the powers.”

Sam shot a bitch face over his shoulder to see the smug smile that he used to hate when he was a teenager and Dean would do something just to intentionally irritate him. Since he couldn’t talk he hoped his eyes expressed what he was thinking when his balls were suddenly tugged and he moaned half in need and half in pain as Dean wasn’t bothering to be gentle.

“Bitch face me again and I take off the gloves, Sam,” Dean warned, teeth leaving bite marks all down Sam’s back as a third finger worked up inside him. “Also, remember the knife at your throat? Piss me off and see how fast I start cutting for real.”

Sam hadn’t forgotten the knife being held by this new power because it was, quite frankly, freaking him the hell out. He’d never once doubted before that Dean would ever cut him. This time he didn’t have that confidence. It also bothered him because he didn’t know how much pinpoint control Dean might have over this power once he got distracted with sex.

Right then the blade was pressed against the shoulder that was throbbing in so much pain from the stress it had on it with the way he was leaning forward that he was almost in tears with it. The tip of the blade broke skin and he made a sound of muffled surprise and pain and Dean’s darkening eyes shot up from where he’d been focused on the three fingers he was moving a little faster to feel the muscles slowly stretching.

“Learned your lesson yet?” he asked gruffly but the blade shifted to begin to lightly trace rigid muscles on Sam’s stretched abdomen. “If I hang around, if I decide to stick it out back here with you…the faster you learn that the big brother you knew isn’t in the picture right now and it might be awhile before he is, the better things will be for you. I’m in charge and I still own this ass.”

A sharp slap on the ass had Sam tensing but with it came a different feeling as the invisible touch on his cock shifted to a smoother, longer stroke that had him moaning with want as much as each hard slap to his reddening ass had him responding in pain.

Sam was soon on a tight edge between pleasure and pain. He restlessly tried to pull his left hand from where it had been pinned and held against the wall to both trap it and also support him where he was forced to lean forward. He tried to move his injured arm only to cry out in pain as his shoulder strained; a strong arm was suddenly wrapped around him to keep him still.

“Settle!” Dean’s voice was sharp, hard; his lips hot where they settled over his ear. “Stop straining, stop moving because you are not going anywhere. You’ll get what I give when I give it to you. All you’re going to do is hurt yourself more and that’ll piss me off faster than anything else so…be good,” he smoothed his mouth over Sam’s shoulder but stayed perfectly still with his arm locked around his brother’s shoulders until slowly he felt the restless movements stop. “If I let your hand go do you swear not to try to fight me?”

The words were muffled but Sam’s jerky nod gave the older Winchester the answer he assumed was positive so the power backed off to free Sam’s hand from the wall.

Dean’s arm stayed around to hold him back against him. “Put your hand back. I want it on me,” he ordered, adjusting the head of his ready, engorged and dripping cock against the slightly stretched hole in Sam’s ass. He shuddered at the first feel of tight heat closing around him. “Fuck. This is what was missing with all those others. No one’s ass feels like yours, Sammy.”

The pain was intense as Dean’s cock squeezed in with three deep thrusts that had Sam’s left hand grabbing for purchase in Dean’s longer than usual hair while struggling not to resist the burning pain as his brother pushed into until they were flush.

“I forgot how tight you can be if we don’t fuck regularly or if I don’t stretch you enough,” Dean’s voice was deep, and almost like Sam was used to hearing but not quite; hips thrusting with no time for the hunter to get used to the tightness moving inside his ass. “Relax, Sam. It’ll hurt less.”

Relaxing wasn’t an easy thing to do for Sam right then given he still could feel invisible fingers tormenting his dripping cock and tightening balls while the blade had now started a light raking motion over his lower stomach and he feared one slip of power would end up with his belly being ripped open.

He’d lost track of time or the sounds he was making since he wasn’t sure what the hell kinds he was making behind the gag. All Sam knew right then in a brief moment of thought was that this version of his brother might be crueler, less caring but he also still had Dean’s annoying ability to go too goddamn slow during sex.

The severe burning pain was just about to hit this side of unbearable when suddenly Sam felt his brother pull out until just the tip of his cock was left buried in his ass. He thought he tried to speak, to object, fingers grasping in the thicker hair as hot lips kissed over his ear before Dean whispered something that totally threw Sam off his game.

Sam went still and as he did Dean took the moment to give a solid rolling thrust to push back in deep with a low groan that seemed to match the muffled moan from Sam as pain turned to something the hunter hadn’t expected to feel: pleasure.

The touches to his body had been more teasing, to make him hard, to make him want to beg to come but Sam honestly hadn’t expected to feel the firm pressure of Dean’s cock hitting his prostate now with every thrust now. He hadn’t expected the pain to turn to pleasure.

He hadn’t expected to feel the power that had been touching him to be replaced by the firm grip of solid flesh as Dean’s hand replaced it, beginning to jerk him off in long steady strokes that matched his thrusts. Sam was still unable to move his hips either way, forced to take only what he was given which seemed to be Dean’s plan.

Dean could feel the way Sam’s body tensed, wanting to push back or forward but kept him pinned while holding him back against his chest; fingers stroking harder as he felt tight inner muscles getting tighter around his cock.

“I’ve fucked a lot of people since I got like this,” he murmured between hot kisses along Sam’s jaw, not missing the twitch on Sam’s face at the reminder of Dean’s days since becoming a demon. “I’ve had a lotta fun but it’s still a lot better with you. I love hearing you try to beg me and feel you like this. I told you once that you were mine and I intend to make sure you remember that now,” he brushed his lips down the injured shoulder, slowly mouthing over knotted muscles and the deep bruise that still showed. “Mine, Sammy.”

Dean raised the knife playfully to let it rest against Sam’s throat as he gave another hard thrust that pushed his cock right where he wanted it to feel Sam’s body shaking. He adjusted the arm that held Sam to tighten it slightly as his fingers gave a playful tease over the leaking slit, hearing a gasp and letting go of the power that had been applied to the base of Sam’s cock to keep him from finding release until he was ready to allow it.

“Wanna feel you come with me, little brother,” he growled lowly, forcing Sam’s head back by moving the knife so his brother had to lean it back to avoid being cut. “Look at me.”

The order was sharp, cold but when Sam’s eyes, already wide with a desire he didn’t think he’d feel, looked up he met Dean’s intense green eyes and held them; waiting to see what would happen now.

“Come,” Dean ordered, holding his eyes to watch his brother’s face as he felt a jerk and then felt hot come spilling over his hand as he continued to jerk Sam off while thrusting his hips shallowly to keep hitting that spot in Sam until he finally felt muscles clamp down on his cock and let his own climax hit with a groan of lust. “Sammy.”

The climax had hit Sam hard. He hadn’t actually been expecting to be allowed to come so when it hit he could only let it run its course. He had no way to move so was forced to allow Dean’s hand and cock help get him through it while feeling hot come filling him as Dean came in his ass and Sam groaned, head dropping back to his brother’s shoulder; no longer caring about the knife by that point. He just wanted to enjoy this moment while it lasted.

“Feel so good like this, Sammy,” Dean was saying, hips thrusting quicker to appease his body’s need for release. He heard Sam’s muffled voice growing softer and felt the change the moment the force of the final burst of Sam’s orgasm knocked his brother out and let the power hold him while working his own to the end. “So damn good…baby boy.”

Sam was limp, lashes closed as his chest moved shallowly as his body cooled. He dimly heard the nickname that only Dean was ever allowed to use for him and usually only when they were intimate and at its use he felt safe enough to let the pressing darkness of exhaustion and pleasure sweep him under.

By prearranged agreement it was the only name that Dean agreed not to use…until the game was over. Saying it let Sam know the scene was over but the unexpected force of the climax knocked him out and he could only hope Dean’s new attitude let him remember that.

By the time Sam’s brain reconnected and woke back up he realized he was no longer in his room but had been moved to Dean’s. He’d been cleaned of sweat, come, and any blood while the shallow cuts looked to have been covered while he’d been dressed in loose sleep pants but nothing else.

The gag was also gone and he couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t feel as sore as he knew he probably should’ve been.

Letting his eyes open slowly, Sam tensed subtly to see if he could move freely or if he needed to worry. The first thing he could feel, other than there was no power holding him, was that the sling was gone but when he went to move his arm on instinct a warm hand touched his shoulder as if in warning and Sam froze.

“How bad is this?” Dean’s voice still didn’t carry the same gruff and slightly gravelly tone it had since he hit about 17 but it also wasn’t hard like steel either so Sam decided to adjust.

“Torn muscles after it was dislocated,” he replied honestly and wincing automatically when fingers roamed over the shoulder. “The guy didn’t think the rotator cuff was torn too badly and just advised to keep it still, ice and heat and try a massage every once in a while. If it keeps hurting to come back. I’ll heal…probably.”

“Huh,” Dean grunted, eyes roaming Sam’s body before settling on the shoulder to run his fingers around to the back where he could feel the torn muscles. “Can the sling be off?” he asked, flicking his eyes to where the heavy sling was lying across the room.

Sam nodded, a little unsure what was happening now since he was still wary with this change in Dean. “I try not to sleep with it on and only wear it if I hunt or if I think I might forget and try to move it more than I should in a day or…”

“Or you know you’re gonna be jumped for sex by your demon brother?” Dean finished, lips curving slightly and let his fingers warm against Sam’s shoulder to feel some of the muscles knitting back together.

“Or I suspect that,” Sam allowed that one since it was true. The attack in his room hadn’t been a total surprise since Dean had flat out told him what he wanted to do one time. He just hadn’t said when or where he planned to jump Sam which played into the surprise attack and also the not so faked fear as the younger man was still unsure of everything between them now.

Dean had been back for less than three weeks and they were both still in the adjustment stage of things. The first meeting hadn’t gone too well and Sam still had to replace the things damaged in that meeting but in the end he hadn’t been any more capable of killing Dean that day than he had this time.

Learning what he had, Sam accepted that Dean was not pure demon or even a normal one so that left him with hope that one day soon he’d find a way to reverse whatever had been done. It was just a matter of getting used to the change in Dean’s attitude because it wasn’t easy to see the changes in the brother that he’d grown up idolizing.

This hadn’t been the first time they’d had sex since Dean came back and Sam had been leery about it because he could easily tell the difference in this Dean and the brother he’d been in love with since before Sam had been 15 years old.

Dean was rougher, colder, more willing to push the envelope with kinks than he had been before but in order to keep him there, where Sam would hopefully find a cure, he’d accepted that their sex would get rougher. He’d laid down a simple set of things that he’d just prefer Dean not do and then held his breath as his brother glanced at the list before nodding his agreement.

The game they’d just played had taken Sam by surprise. He’d been expecting a lot more violence than had happened. He’d been expecting a lot more pain or blood given Dean’s love of knives and how the blade had never left his skin. Then there had been the whispered words that kept throwing him out of the mindset that Sam had known he’d need to keep in order to handle Dean right then.

Waking up in Dean’s bed with his brother with him also confused the hell out of him because the first night they’d had sex since his brother’s return, Sam had woken up alone and refused to admit how much that had actually hurt him.

“You’re thinking too hard again,” Dean spoke up, standing long enough to shed his jeans before stretching out beside Sam on the king size memory foam bed. “I’m actually feeling mellow right now so it would be a good time to tell me what’s making you think so hard.”

Sam had to blink to get his thoughts out of the gutter because he still loved watching Dean’s body so his gaze immediately went to his brother’s lean body but a frown came as he looked at the anti-possession tattoo that was evidence to how different a demon his brother really was now.

“I…” he began to shrug it off as nothing until fingers caught his chin to tilt it back, seeing green eyes that were almost soft looking watch him and Sam blew out a breath. “Sometimes I wonder how much of what you say you mean. Like the stuff you said in my room about having too much responsibility put on you and not caring about stuff or…me.”

The last word was said in a whisper but was still heard as Dean’s fingers brushed over a bruise on Sam’s cheek from the leather strap of the gag down over his throat where he still hadn’t removed the one invisible item he’d put on his brother earlier that night.

“Dying and coming back like this has erased a lot of the cares and need to please that I had. And I won’t lie, I don’t give a crap about 99.9% of the stuff that I did before,” Dean began easily, voice casual as he watched Sam’s face struggle not to show the emotion that has always been a part of his little brother.

Dean had honestly tried to stay away from Sam. He’d used the excuse that if he went back or Sam found him that his brother would try too hard to ‘fix’ him and Dean wasn’t sure he wanted fixed. He’d felt free for the first time in his life. He enjoyed not being responsible for the world’s problems as it so often felt like they had been. He’d been enjoying this new life…until the night Crowley mentioned that Sam had been jumped and hurt by demons pissed off at him.

It was that night that Dean made another discovery. He didn’t care about anything but one damn thing and it looked like he was cursed to care for his little brother no matter what he was.

He’d gone back and had done a damn good job convincing the kid of the changes in him now. Dean would humor Sam’s attempts to fix him and if it happened, fine. If it didn’t, he’d be fine with that too.

Making the choice to jump Sam that night had been spur of the moment. Dean had seen how pale and tired Sam had been since he’d gotten back. He knew his brother wasn’t sleeping well because he often found him asleep in the library or at the kitchen table and would drag him to bed.

It took a week for Dean to realize Sam was having nightmares that kept chasing him out of bed and that that only time it looked like they left his brother alone was if he stayed close to him or slept with him…like when they’d been kids or after they’d made love.

Dean had decided that this side of him did not and would not do the after sex cuddling thing that Sam could often talk his old self into doing but after the first night back, their first night of having sex and he left Sam to sleep alone, the older brother had heard the tears that Sam tried to cover even though the thick walls of the bunker.

He’d found it odd not to care but yet knowing such a simple thing as not staying with Sam after sex had hurt him made a heaviness settle on his chest. Dean also had noticed after the first week back that it was easier to relate to Sam again…almost too easy. It was getting too easy to slip back into the man whose sole care in the world was his pain in the ass little brother and he wasn’t sure why that was.

In fact, his plan for that night had been to prove just how much he had changed. How hard and cold he was and how much harder he liked the sex. Dean really didn’t know when that plan had changed but had known it had when he couldn’t bring himself to actually cut Sam more than the shallow cuts he’d gotten. Or when he’d he;d him still to keep him from damaging that shoulder more

Dean knew he had hurt his brother by not opening him enough but the moment Sam passed out and his own climax had ended he’d pulled out far more gently than he would with anyone else and took care of cleaning and healing any serious bruises or wounds right there. Letting Sam feel sore in the morning was one thing but leaving him internally torn or bruised was another even to this side of his brain.

Sam hadn’t known what in that little act was faked or real and in truth Dean wasn’t fully sure he knew now because the first time he’d whispered ‘I still love you’ to his brother it seemed like something unknotted in his chest.

Now as he watched Sam’s lashes lower to hide his eyes he felt a small spurt of what he knew from past experience was guilt welling up. “Look at me, Sam,” he ordered, tone not as hard now as he waited for those damn eyes to lift up again. “Do you want me to tell you the one thing I still care about? Do you really want to know the one thing that would still make me care enough to rip the lungs out of anything, human or demon?”

“Y-yeah,” Sam wasn’t sure he did but he knew he had to adjust, he had to accept that until he got rid of the mark on Dean’s arm, until he fixed this that he was not anything to his brother now.

He tensed as Dean held his face still. He missed the softness, the gentleness that only came when they were alone like this but he would hide that loss until he was alone in his room. It had hurt enough to think of all the casual sex his brother had been having.

“You,” Dean replied, catching Sam’s suddenly open mouth in a kiss that he kept a lot slower than he might have right now or if it had been anyone else. He’d seen the surprise reflected in Sam’s eyes as well as a small piece of doubt and couldn’t blame him for that given some of the things he’d said lately. “I came back for you, Sam.

“The constant parties, the wild sex, the drinking…yeah, it was fine. The night Crowley told me about demons jumping you was when I knew I needed to come back. I’m still not the man I was. I still can’t be that brother for you but…you also seem to be the one person I still care about,” he leaned up to press slow kisses to Sam’s lips before moving down his neck to find the one spot he knew his brother was still sensitive. “I had serious plans to hurt you tonight…or bruise you at least but in the end…the moment I touched you nothing but the gag and knife came into play. No cuffs, no ropes, nothing that I knew would make you understand who I am now.”

Sam frowned, confused. He started to sit up when fingers touched the center of his chest to keep him flat. “Did…did you mean it about the club?” he asked warily, reaching up to touch the collar that he knew was still on. “About taking me inside a demon run D/s club and showing who owned me?”

“I’d rip more demons apart than play with you if I ever did that,” Dean snorted, seeing Sam’s fingers on the collar that he’d just put on as a whim with no real plans to carry that threat out. “No, Sam. While a normal club like we went to a few times might not be too bad I would not take you into a demon run club because that would just be asking for trouble for both of us,” he brushed the nervous fingers aside to focus his power. “Hold still so I can take this off. I didn’t think you’d still feel it. I thought if I left it on it might give you some protection cause any demon would know who put it on you.”

Watching as Dean’s eyes darkened but stayed green, Sam felt an odd burst of something at the thought of his brother removing the collar. His hand shot up to grab Dean’s wrist. “No, leave it…please. I…want you to leave it.”

“Sam,” Dean’s eyes narrowed. “It was a whim. Sure I thought it would protect you right now since I’ve made some demon waves but…I never honestly planned for you to wear it. We covered this before.”

“No one but a demon or you and I know it’s on me, Dean,” Sam knew the thought of a collar should be freaking him the hell out, especially one put on by power but he actually felt more at ease with it.

“Operative word there is you know it’s there, Sam,” Dean wasn’t even aware of when the same worries began to come back as he’d had years earlier the first time they broached the D/s scene and someone mentioned collaring his brother. “You’re not something that needs a collar. You’re you. You’re…”

Sam suddenly realized that he could see a slight change in Dean; a change that reminded him of his brother and it was this change that actually made him relax with the thought of this. He smoothed a finger over his throat and instead of raw cold power like the games Lucifer had played this time Sam felt a smoothness like soft leather and wondered if that was because of whose power had placed it there.

“Yours,” he completed the phrase that Dean seemed to struggling with. “I never denied being that or still wanting to be yours, Dean. I…just had issues knowing that you didn’t care for me for anything but sex. You know…before…that I said I’d wear one if you wanted me to.”

“And you know why I said no to that,” Dean muttered but felt his resolve waver as Sam took his hand to let it rest over his neck, feeling the collar there and wondering where the hell the uncaring bastard was in him right now. “We never got into the scene that far and…damn it, Sam. I don’t have the control I did before. I can’t say if you keep that on what might happen.”

“I don’t think anything will happen and that’s the point. You put this on maybe as a whim, maybe cause you thought it would freak me out with the memories of Lucifer or maybe because you did mean for it to protect me from other demons. I also think seeing this on me reminds you of what I am to you,” Sam prayed he was right and that this might actually work as an advantage for him. “I also think so long as I wear this, so long as I give that power to you again that you won’t hurt me because demon with a twisting soul or not, if you care about me enough to come back for me then you care enough to not hurt me.”

Sam took a slow breath to see he had Dean’s attention. He could feel his brother’s fingers moving slowly over his throat, down his chest and back up to his face. “If I’m wrong, if this is all a game to you then take it off. Take it off and I’ll go sleep in my room. I’ll give you sex when you want it, how you want it so long as you don’t cross those few lines we discussed before. You can do what you want and I’ll do what I have to in order to save you.

“Or you can leave it on until I get you back. Leave it on to prove to yourself, to me, to every damn demon we might run across who owns me. Your choice, Dean,” he held his breath to see what Dean would do.

The silence in the bedroom was thick and after several long minutes, the younger Winchester let his eyes close to hide his disappointment when Dean’s fingers settled on the side of his neck to brush over the collar. He began to nod his acceptance when he felt lips graze over his temple.

“I own this ass with or without a collar, Sammy,” Dean murmured lowly, fingers curling in the back of his brother’s hair to give it a tug to pull Sam’s head back more on the pillow and stare into his eyes. “As a demon or as a human, you belong to me and I don’t need a damn collar on you to tell me that but…” he paused to lift a brow, cutting off Sam’s usual objections. “But…to show everyone else right now…I’ll leave it. Tell me now if it’s too tight or if it ever starts to hurt you. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” Sam nodded, relaxing slightly as Dean laid back down beside him. “Do…you want me to go to my room?” he asked as he could feel his eyes getting heavy and knowing he needed to move before he fell asleep.

“If I wanted you to sleep in your room I would’ve left you there after I got you cleaned up,” Dean replied simply, staring at the ceiling. “You need to sleep, Sam. I don’t so much but I’m willing to fake it if it’ll help you sleep a full night. When you wake up we’ll talk more and try to come to an agreement that suits us both right now.”

Stunned that Dean would be willing to let him sleep with him, Sam nodded. He was hesitant to sleep because he hated waking up with the damn nightmares but right then his body was still spent from what had happened earlier that he slowly shifted to his side, trying to adjust so his injured shoulder wouldn’t move too much when he felt the bed move with his brother’s movement a moment before a familiar arm slipped to lay over him.

“I might not always act like a good guy, Sam,” Dean’s voice was quiet when it spoke, lips brushing over the back of his neck.

“You didn’t always act like a good guy before, Dean,” Sam returned, eyes heavy as he tried to keep them open as long as he could while hearing a low chuckle that still managed to warm him.

“Cute, smart ass,” Dean snorted in return, surprised not to feel anger at the slight jab. He’d killed people recently for less of an insult. “My point was that how I am with you when we’re alone might be totally different than I am out there.”

Sam leaned back a little just so he could look into his brother’s face. “Dude, how you were with me alone has always been different than how you are when we’re with others.”

“Smart ass,” Dean muttered but was swift to lean closer to kiss Sam, letting his arm tighten just enough to support and hold Sam back to him. “Close your eyes and go to sleep before I decide to keep you awake for another reason.”

Sam muttered a reply while letting his body relax enough to sleep fully for the first time in months. It was more instinct than thought when he eased back closer to his brother’s chest, reaching up to touch the arm that held him.

Dean sighed when he realized he was indeed cuddling again but decided if that’s what it took to get Sam to sleep a full night then he’d swallow his new demon pride and suck it up.

He slowly moved his other arm until he got it under Sam’s shoulder to bring him back fully, letting his leg slip between his brother’s when Sam let out a soft sound on contentment that made Dean’s more usual smirk slip into a fond smile without realizing it.

“I meant what I told you earlier, Sammy,” he murmured once he was certain Sam was sleeping fully. “I do still love you and I will still rip the demon out of the next bastard who touches you because the ones who did this have already burned.”

Dean settled a hand over the sore shoulder to focus on it. He’d let Sam heal naturally but he didn’t see the harm in removing some of the pain his brother was in and hiding while he slept.

Watching Sam sleep brought Dean other memories from other times. He’d been avoiding thinking about his old life until now. He accepted his brother would probably find a way to reverse or lessen the demon that had been raised thanks to the Cain’s mark and the First Blade. Dean considered stopping Sam but knew he wouldn’t. He’d give him a chance while enjoying this new freedom before responsibility once again came crashing down.

As Dean let his own eyes close even without the need to sleep he allowed another thought to come while gently tracing the collar he could see and could make visible with a thought. “Maybe we will go play somewhere, little brother. Preferably before you manage to change me back since we both know you won’t quit until you do or we’re both dead. And because the moment you manage to turn me back to something more like the man I was this damn thing comes off your throat and that, little brother, will be how you’ll know you’ve got me back.”

**The End**

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. And yes, I might write a sequel if the plot hits me.


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